Jesper's hands belong on his body, and his body belongs to Jesper's hands. The paths his touch travels over his skin are so familiar as to become second nature, like lungs absorbing air or heart pumping blood, but it has the effect of an electric current zipping through Wilhelm. He lets go of Jesper to flick open the buttons of his vest and give him an easier time of teasing. As Jesper's touch slopes down his belly, the silk lies coolly against his alert nipples in the absence of those hungry hands.

All sweltering sighs and low fluttering lashes, he gyrates against Jesper. One hand, matching the loop of Jesper's arm around his waist, holds onto his knuckles; the other rises to tangle in his curly hair, keeping him close. In his lover's grasp, his cock swells to fullness fast, as if following the tilting tempo of the music. Jesper is getting hard too — he can feel him against his ass, heat exhaling through all the layers of their clothing.

"Against the tree," his answer slips out on a sigh.

The tree that served as a backdrop to the brides' vows has several boughs that nearly brush the ground to create a shady canopy, but it's not cover that Wilhelm has in mind—

"You'll want something to hold onto."